BEAUTIES OF THE 
GLOAMING 




In my talk on the Gloainiax, »4iy» Robert Burdrtic. 

I am puzzled lo know itut the way (o begin it: 
Not one in tliift audience knows what it is, 

Yet a couple went out and they sat right dovsn m n 




Author. >'(>«( , 

for (\u- BHnfl: OriuluiitP of Hfllsdair rnHrrr,'' 

I'KICK IHIKIV (IMS 



liutitutf 



BLAUTIL5 OF the GLOAMING 

BY 

HARVLY AU5T1N FULLLR 

Author of "Trimsharp's Account of Himself," "Stray 

Leaves," "Where Dark Shadows Play," 

"Hidden Beauties," etc. 



This title page you may presage, 

Is like its author, roaming. 
If you but read, you will indeed 

Know more within "The Gloaming." 



The "Shadow Land," you understand, 

Is light behind the curtain ; 
The light of soul that holds control 

Is the true light, be certain. 

H. A. F. 






PUBLISHED BY THL AUTHOR 
HILLSDALE, MICHIGAN 

COPYRIGHTLD 1908 BY HARVE.Y AUSTIN FULLLR 



iUSRARY of CONGRESS 
Two Copies Received 

NOV 16 11908 

i CapyriKht Entry _^^ 
CLASS 0.» XXc, *i<}. 



^ 



1S« 




Beauties of the Gloaming 



DEDICATED 
TO 

MARY 

THE SWEETEST NAME 
AND 
GIRL 



I KNOW 

Who she is you would never guess. The sinyls theinselves 
could not tell you if they would. The mystic maid will 
meet me beyond the gloaming. 

'Tis a sunse' r^'- by his gloaming I mean, — 
A twilight, a nigsulall an^i Jhe angels are near. 
Then the mist and tba h?.zf vf the earth's brightest days 
Will be lost in a glory transcendently clear. 

—The Author. 




FOREWORD 

By the Author. 

"Hear me for my cause 

And be silent that ye may hear." 

— Shakespeare. 

My friends, above is my picture, gaunt and 
hungry looking as you see, and below is my speech. 
The picture is a true likeness of me and I think you 
will recognize it. 

In my latest book, "Hidden Beauties," I had an- 
other portrait and under it a quotation from Paradise 



Bemities of the Gloaming. 

Lost. The people wanted to know if that was John 
Milton. I admitted it might be and as I didn't like it 
very well I gave it over to the great poet. 

The picture is hungry looking and I am hungry 
too. I intend to use the money which you are about 
to pay me for the book for a good dinner. I shall 
invite some of the neighbors to dine with me to keep 
me from overeating. 

You may think the names of those you find in 
this book peculiarly gifted above all men, but it is 
not quite so. They are in truth lovely characters and 
yet there are others whom I would like, did space 
permit, to embalm in verse. To single out one or 
two, there is Harry S. Myers, who is a secretary of 
the Young People's Missionary Movement. I used to 
tease Harry by telling him that his father, Geo. 
W. Myers, carried the brains of the Myers fam- 
ily, but I don't think so now. Harry has developed 
and duplicated. He is "the father of a wife and three 
lively children." 

Another individual I want to mention is Secretary 
Jackson. I used to tell him that the Trustees of Hills- 
dale College had spoiled a good preacher to make a 
poor secretary, but I think better of it now. There is 
not a man who has taken more steps for me than this 
young secretary. Whenever I enter his office to get a 
little writing done he turns me over to the steno- 
grapher at once. When I was studying the typewriter 
at Saginaw he wrote me that it was a shame for me 
to learn to do my own writing when there were so 
many pretty girls that would be deprived of the privi- 
lege. 




Introduction. 




^* 



V-f ^^ 




INTRODUCTION 

BLIND. 

The following poem written for the author by his 
warm-hearted friend, Hon. Silas Bettes McManus, 
State Senator of Indiana, Editor, Poet and Entertainer, 
will serve the purpose of introduction to ouf book, 
"The Beauties of the Gloaming." Hon. McManus says, 
"I dedicate this in love to my friend, Mr. Harvey 
Austin Fuller, who so cheerfully and bravely bears 
the cross of blindness." 

Say not, dear friend, that thou art blind, 

When but the sun's red rays are hidden from thy sight, 

Far in the vague, deep silence thou dost find 

A world where even-tide and starless night 

Ne'er build a wall so dark, so deep and high, 

That earth with groping hands clutches the inky sky. 



Beauties of the Gloaming. 

Thou canst not see the birds that bloom, with plumage 

bright, 
The land and sky, and make them as a garden filled 

with flowers. 
Yet thou dost hear their songs and trace their wanton 

flight 
Through grove and glade, through summer sun and 

showers. 
To thee, the orchestra are they — within a banquet hall 
Obscured from sight by palms and rhododendrons tall. 

Thou canst not see the meadow, daisy flecked. 

And sentried with red lilies, martial clad; 

Nor fair deep woods in robes thrice kingly decked. 

Nor mountain steep ; and yet thy heart is glad 

When from the mead and wood steal the caressing 

scents. 
And the brave air sweeps down from sky-reached 

battlements. 

The outward world is fair, so very fair, O friend, 
Yet with thy mantled sight thou seest yet the best; 
Thy world is wrought with deeds, the substance that 

doth lend 
A graciousness that blesses and is blest. 
Thine is a world in strange completeness grown, 
Made of the best of life — the very heart alone. 

Dost long for light? Thou hast it all thy years! 
Each life must make the sunshine it doth crave ; 
Each soul must be the alchemist, to change the bitter 

tears 
Of life to founts of water, healing, comforting, and 

brave. 
And thou, my friend, in thy sweet patient, way 
Hast robbed this problem of its mystery. 

God gives no idle joy nor sends one useless pain, 
Keeps back no thing of good, inflicts no wanton woe. 
He evens up our lives — withholding not a grain 
Of sunshine or of gloom, of shadow or of glow, 
That shall ourselves upbuild to stature brave and good. 
Uniting all that's best in bravest brotherhood. 



Introduction 

No need to say to thee, O friend, forget the gift 
That once was thine, that God hath taken back; 
Thou who hast made full many a golden rift 
Within thy sunless sky that else were ever black. 
Walk patient in thy path, singing thy cheerful lay. 
Thy roads leads safe and sure into Eternal Day. 



Silas Bette:s McManus, 

Marsih Brook Farm, 
Lima, Ind. 




Beauties of the Gloaming. 




10 



Reviewer's Note. 




REVIEWER'S NOTE. 

The beauties of the gloaming depend on the experi- 
ence of a day, the coming of a night and the visions of 
a soul. Their source is the light that shines from 
beyond the shadow. Their glory consists in trans- 
forming the leaden barriers of night unto a rich cur- 
tain, whose confused warp of cloud and shadow is 
shot through with an ordered and variegated light, that 
■epitomizes the story of the day's glory, in a place and 
at a time that is worthy of our contemplation and 
meditative attention. 

In this little book, Mr. Fuller tells us of his 
entrance into the shadowland of sightlessness, his pass- 
age through it on to the breaking of light — from 
within. It is the light from within shining through 
the evening mists of his days, that spells the title of 
the book, "Beauties of the Gloaming." 

It is a great thing on the part of the author that 
he has light enough from within alone to call our 

11 



Beauties of the Gloaming. 

attention to the beauties of the gloaming, which our 
eyes so filled with the cares and lower utilities of life 
for the most part fail to see or appreciate. 

But the beauties of the gloaming when they have 
been felt, have touched many a singer, to say nothing^ 
of us ordinary mortals, with a note of sadness and 
sombre melancholy. I find nothing of this in Mr. 
Fuller's book. On the other hand it is characterized 
throughout by cheerfulness and hope. This can be 
explained only through the light from within. 

When the light of the gloaming comes from with- 
out it is a fading, dying light, and hence the melancholy 
thoughts it naturally suggests. But when the light is 
from within, it fades not with the deepening shadows 
but pierces them with ever brighter and brighter shafts- 
of light by contrast and goes on shining, shining, 
toward the perfect day. This I regard as the deeper 
message of these pages. 

To all who know the meaning of a life shadow,, 
this little book will be understood. To all who have a. 
heavy cross to 'bear, it will bring encouragement. To- 
all who feel that the light of life is painting a fading- 
picture of departed glory upon the sombre evening sky, 
this little book has a quickening message of "more 
light." 

Rtv. Leroy Waterman, 

Dunn Professor of the Hebrew 
Language and Literature, Hillsdale College.. 




12 



Contents Table 




K^ 



CONTENTS TABLE. 



Part I. 



PAGE 

Title Page 3 

Dedication 4 

Foreword , 5-6 

Introduction ''^-9 

Reviewer's Note • 11' 12 

Contents Table 13-14 

The Journey to Shadowland 15-19 

Entering Shadowland 21 2l< 

A Flowery Vale in Shadowland 2" 3i 

A Shadowless Sky. . . 33-38 

13 



Beauties of the Gloaming. 



Part II. 

The Industrious Oak : 39 

Sixty Years Old and a Boy 41-43 

You and 1 45-46 

The Gloaming 47-48 

Beyond the Gloaming 49-50 

Gratitude 51-52 

My Scribe for Today 53-54 

The Brotherhood of Man 55-56 

Nature's Gentleman 57-58 

The Beauty of Friendship 59-60 

The College Clock 61-62 

Hope 63 

Russell H. Bready, D.D., and others 64-66 




14 



The Journey to Shadoiv Land. 




Chapter I. 



THE JOURNEY TO SHADOW LAND. 



The term "Shadow Land," to a scientific mind, 
does not mean much. It is not found in "Webster." 
It is a poetical expression used in an accommodated 
sense to express the physical condition of those who 
are destitute of visual power. They are indeed in 
"Shadow Land." "They wear the shadowed livery of 

15 



Beauties of the Gloaming. 

the burning sun," and more, with most the shadows 
are so dense they become a firmament of darkness. 

As to my birth, I know not by experience where 
or when I was born. My memory does not extend 
back to that point. I do not even remember my 
mother. She died, I am told, when I was but a few 
weeks old. I am also told that I was born near Manns- 
ville, N. Y., on Hallowe'en about midnight in the year 
1834. Whether this special time of my birth has any- 
thing to do with my peculiar make-up, I cannot say. 

The first event of my life that I can distinctly 
remember, took place while I was sitting in my grand- 
mother's lap. I cannot remember how I reached that 
close embrace of my sainted grandmother, or how I 
v.'as released from it. I remember only what happened 
while I was there. 

A lady came into the room and called my attention 
to her by saying, "Harve}^, I am going to take you !" 
I was terrific.' ^ evo, d expression. I kicked and 
screamed and the mm, thing words of my grandmother 
did not for a time pacify me. This episode at the very 
beginning of ii;\ varying career gave an unalterable 
dii-^r^'^oa ' •iiy after-life. It is doubtless the reason, 
ladies, why I am so bashful in your presence. Per- 
chance too, this feeling of bashfulness creates in me a 
sympathy for those who are similarly afflicted. An 
example of this is given in the impression made upon 
my mind by the lines I read when I was a boy, pre- 
sumed to be the composiHor- r i b'^sliful Dutchman. 

16 



The Journey to Shadow Land. 

'Ven Adam lived in Baradice 

He did not live content 

Until a rib vas from him took 

And into Voman bent. 

Schoost think how Adam must have stared 

Ven first he did awake 

And found himself a married man, 

Mitout e'en a wedding cake. 

I vish that I could do the same 

Schoost go to bed some night 

And vake up in the morning 

Mit a vife to bless my sight. 

I'm very bashful, yes I am. 

'Twould save me lots of trouble 

To go to bed a single man 

And vake up as a double." 



Dear old Grandmother of mine ! How I cherish 
the memory of her love and the taste of the goodies she 
gave me to eat. 

The next event in my journey to the "Shadow 
Land" which I think worth mentioning here, took 
place on board a vessel where I was the cook. The 
vessel ran between Toledo, O., and Ogdensburg, N. Y., 
and it was while we were passing through the Welland 
Canal in Canada that the incident I am about to men- 
tion, took place. 

Our vessel was bound for Ogdensburg, N. Y., a 
port on the St. Lawrence river, and a few days after 
my coming on board, we set sail for that place. It 
was my fate never to reach our destination, for, while 

17 



Beauties of the Gloaming. 

passing- through the ship canal that leads from Lake 
Erie to Ontario, I met with an accident which com- 
pelled me to leave the boat, and came very near com- 
pelling me to quit my hold on existence. While the 
vessel was lying in one of the deepest locks, waiting to 
be admitted to the canal below, I attempted to get on 
board by sliding down a large rope which extended 
from a snubbing post of the lock down to the vessel's 
bow. I had no sooner placed my weight upon the rope 
than it slacked down so suddenly that it caused me to 
lose my hold upon it and I went head foremost into 
the water, many feet below. I was immediately aware 
of my imminent peril, but saw no way of escape. It 
was fortunate for me that the ship was not on the side 
of the lock to which it was fastened, else in my long 
fall I must have dashed out my brains upon the deck ; 
but I knew that when it swayed back as a vessel 
always does when the lock is being emptied of water, 
1 should be crushed between the wall and the vessel's 
side. While in this dangerous situation, I seemed to 
have a panoramic view of myself from my earliest 
remembrance up to that very moment when I was 
struggling for my life. As I was an excellent swimmer 
1 soon came to the surface, observing which, our cap- 
tain called out to one of the men to throw a rope to 
me; but the man was so excited by the circumstance 
that he looked all over the vessel for a detached piece, 
while there were hundreds of feet of coiled rope within 
his reach. He being the only man on board at the 
time, I was obliged to wait for him ; but as soon as he 
was able, he dropped a rope's end into the water and 

18 



The Journey to Shadow Land 

seizing it, I climbed to the deck, half dead with the 
exhaustion my effort and excitement had produced. I 
went to my berth, and after a few hours' rest, I came 
back to renew my duties, but found that my place was 
occupied by another. The officer of the boat, seeing 
my condition, had concluded that I was unfit for work 
and so I took passage on a vessel bound for Toledo. 




19 



Beauties of the Gloaming. 




20 



Entering Shadoiv Land. 




Chapter II. 



ENTERING SHADOW LAND. 



My blindness was not congenital. I was born with 
eyes as beautiful and strong as any you would find in 
those days of clear vision. I never saw in my youth 
time any young or middle-aged person wearing glasses, 
and I never chanced to meet but two blind people, 
although I traveled considerably, until I lost my own 
sight, which sad event took place when I was a little 
past twenty years of age. There were, of course, many 
blind people in those times, but they were not among 
the seeing, where I chanced to go. 

An accident to one of my eyes gave to it failing 
vision until the sight was entirely gone, though the eye 
itself remained intact. The sight of the other eye was 

21 



Beauties of the Glooming. 

destroyed by sympathetic inflammation aggravated by 
unskilled medical treatment. A blistering inflamma- 
tion was created in both eyes at the same time and 
for a number of weeks I suffered the most excruciat- 
ing torture until at last the pain subsided and left my 
eyes in a hopeless condition and diminished in size so 
that I wear smoked glasses in order merely to avoid 
any unpleasantness of appearance. 

There has been much talk concerning the com- 
parative severities of the bodily afflictions of deafness 
and the deprivation of sight. The question is often 
propounded, "Which would you rather be, deaf or 
blind?" 

Now with all good feeling to the interrogator, I 
do not give a definite answer. First because I have 
never tried but the one, that of blindness, and cannot 
therefore judge correctly of the magnitude of the other 
affliction. Secondly, we cannot choose our afflictions 
and a decision would not, therefore, be of practical 
advantage; and thirdly, I am reminded of the philos- 
ophy of the man who was inquired of as to the best 
place to have a boil. He thought the best place for a 
boil was on his neighbor. 

I do not presume that I should be willing to send 
my affliction upon another, especially if he were a 
good man. For it may be after all that I can bear it 
better than he, in my surroundings and make-up. 

22 



Beauties of the Gloaming. 

For a young man of bright hopes and fair pros- 
pects, to be hurled at once from a world of sunshine 
and beauty, into the unfathomed depths of gloom, and 
blackness of darkness, where no ray of light can ever 
come, is a thought too terrible for pen to picture, or 
the tongue of an angel to describe! To describe my 
feelings at this time would far exceed my powers of 
delineation. Suffice it to say that, when I found myself 
within this terrible darkness, I cursed my existence and 
longed for death to relieve me. In my frenzied mo- 
ments I imagine that God in his infinite mercy could 
not punish a mortal so afiflicted for any course he might 
pursue, and while standing thus, clutching with a 
trembling hand the unsheathed dagger of suicide, yet 
unstained, a thought came to my mind that in some 
distant eastern city there might be found a man of 
skill who could restore me, and turning away I re- 
solved, weak and helpless as I was, to pursue at once 
this phantom of hope. 




23 



Beauties of the Gloaming. 




4 



24 



A Flozvery Vale in Shadozv Land. 



Chapter III. 
A FLOWERY VALE IN SHADOWLAND. 

While staying with my friends and relatives near 
my birth-place at Mannsville, I received an appoint- 
ment for a term of five years in the New York City 
School for the Blind, situated on Ninth Avenue and 
Thirty-Fourth Street of that City. It was not only a 
:good institution, but at that time, the only one of its 
"kind in New York State, the one at Batavia being 
•established since that time. 

Being prompted somewhat by a desire for knowl- 
edge and more, perhaps, by the thought that I might 
find in that great metropolis some oculist who could 
give me relief and put me in the way where I would 
not need the instruction which the blind receive, I 
•accepted the opportunity with hearty cheer and in due 
time was installed in the school. 

I was cordially received by the Superintendent 
■and others in charge and without any formal examina- 

25 



Beauties of the Gloaming. 

tion (I had been offered a certificate for school teach- 
ing before I lost my sight), I was placed in the junior 
class for a short time and then transferred to the 
senior class, with which class I remained until I left 
school. 

As may be supposed, I lost no time in calling upon 
the best oculists of the city, but I received from each 
of them the same sorrowful story of their inability to 
restore my sight. I say sorrowful, for I think they 
were sorry as well as myself. At Agnew & Walker's 
Eye Infirmary the oculist in charge told my cousin who 
was with me that she must tell that man, for he could 
not, that there was no hope for him. 

Sympathy has not left the earth ; these great 
artists who cut and carve, morally as well as physically 
speaking, have deep sympathies, yet it is not proper 
always to manifest them. 

Yesterday a notice was read to me from the Jack- 
son Patriot written for that paper by one of our Hills- 
dale College graduates, Mr. Walter Jack, A. B., who 
is now assistant editor of the Hillsdale Leader. It 
reads : "Paul Chase (Attorney-at-Law) has rendered 
efficient services to Rev. Harvey A. Fuller, well known 
as Michigan's blind poet and author. Mr. Fuller sus- 
tained a loss of his typewriter and desk which was 
shipped from Fairwater, Wis., to Hillsdale over two 
years ago, and for which he received no remuneration 
until Mr. Chase took the matter in hand and gratuit- 
ously rendering his services, secured for Mr. Fuller 
$115 in payment of the loss." The famous Thurlow 

26 



A Plozvery Vale in Shadoiv Land. 

Weed, Editor of the Albany Journal, once voluntarily 
escorted me from the New York steamboat landing 
through a number of streets to the street car terminus 
and put me on board for my destination at the Institu- 
tion, and I was an entire stranger to him. 

It will not be necessary for me to take up your 
time with any account of the method of instruction for 
the blind, nor of the successful blind whose lives are 
so well known. Most of you have visited their institu- 
tions and know about their curriculum of studies and 
workshops as well as do I. My principle while writ- 
ing is multum in parvo or in common parlance make a 
long story short. One case, however, of the noted 
blind who is well known, not only in our country 
but in the lands beyond the seas for her many 
beautiful songs of devotion used in almost every 
prayer meeting or sacred service, we never 
tire of reading or thinking about. It is Fanny 
J. Crosby I refer to, my kind and able instructor 
in the New York City Institution for the Blind. 
A little further on in this book among the verses you 
may find a poem of hers referring to our school life 
together which she wrote for an introduction to one 
of my books. Miss Crosby is one of the most amiable 
of women, yet she manifests some little dignity when 
she approaches the matter of blindness or rather the 
discounting of the blind in their work. Being in com- 
pany with her one day at Main & Biglow's publishing 
house, New York, where she was engaged in writing 
for them, she told me that the day before, a gentleman 

27 



Beauties of the Gloaming. 

from Chicago who was there picked up one of her 
poems and after reading it carefully said, "That is a 
wonderful thing for a blind person to write." She ap- 
proached the man with the question, "Will you please 
criticise that poem for me?" "No," said he, "I am 
not able to do it." "Why," she replied, "you can cer- 
tainly find some fault with it?" "Not a word," he 
answered. Then said she, "Please do not say it is a 
wonderful thing for a blind person to do." On a 
former occasion, while Miss Crosby was engaged as 
teacher in her Alma Mater, she was annoyed some- 
what by the criticism which the Superintendent of the 
school was constantly bestowing upon the teachers' 
grammatical usage in conversation. One day he in- 
quired of Miss Crosby if the dinner bell had rung. 
"No," she replied rather tartly, "the dinner bell has 
been rung." 

Some years ago I was attending the assembly at 
Keuka College where Miss Crosby was also in attend- 
ance. On the evening of "Fanny Crosby Day," I 
went by invitation to the platform and was seated 
beside her. The manager of the day, Prof. H. B. 
Larabee, Dean of the College, opened the program by 
some remarks concerning a blind student he found at 
Hillsdale College, and said that he had attributed much 
of Plarvey A. Fuller's success to the fact that he was 
a student of Miss Crosby's and that he would surprise 
the audience, and more than all Harvey A. Fuller him- 
self, by introducing him for the opening talk that 
evening. I arose and proceeded at once to the desk 

28 



A Flowery Vale in Shadozv Land. 

and said to the people of the assembly that the occasion 
reminded me of the old Scotch preacher who was in- 
quired of by a young man in the ministry how he got 
along so well without seeming to study his sermons. 
"Why," he replied, "I used to take my Bible on Mon- 
day, read it on Tuesday and Wednesday, select my 




text on Thursday, study the connections on Friday 
and prepare myself fully on Saturday and all the while 
the devil was telling me I would not succeed with 
that text. Now I do not take my text until I go into 
the pulpit Sunday morning and the devil himself does 
not know what I am going to talk about." I said also 
among other things that I regretted that it was known 

29 



Beauties of the Gloaming. 

that Miss Crosby taught me grammar, for fear that I 
should discount my old teacher's efforts on my behalf. 
Miss Crosby said when I had finished speaking, that 
she had watched Harvey closely and if he had made 
a single grammatical mistake she would have stopped 
him then and there. The next day in the Auditorium, 
just as I was leaving with one of the professors who 
had invited me to dinner, we approached Miss Crosby 
who was talking with a group of people around her. 
"Oh," she said, "Harvey, I want you to give us rule 
twenty-six of Brown's Grammar." My mind traveled 
back over that interval of thirty years in vain but I 
could not afford to disappoint my dear old teacher, so 
I said, without any forethought, "Brown's Grammar, 
rule twenty-six reads, whenever you are invited to a 
good dinner and your host stands by your side waiting 
for you to accompany him, good etiquette as well as 
laudable self-interest would snuggest that you forego 
all other interviews and proceed at once to the scene 
of action." I departed at once and her merry laugh told 
that she enjoyed my improvising much more than as 
if I had repeated half a grammar to her. 

I think it will not be considered egotism but words 
of cheer to those who read, if I introduce here an item 
of what Miss Crosby said in relation to our acquaint- 
ance with each other. 

Fanny J. Crosby, in her recent book, "Memories 
of Eighty Years," speaks by name of two whose friend- 
ship have come down to her as rich legacies from the 
past. Having mentioned one, she goes on to say "and 

30 



A Flowery Vale in Shadow Land 

Harvey A. Fuller, who has been one of my most 
intimate friends and whose books have been an inspir- 
ation to me — within a day or two I have received a 
copy of his last book entitled 'Hidden Beauties' and 
have heard it read with P;reat interest." 




31 



Beauties of the Gloaming. 




HILLSDALE, COLLEGE, [MICH.] 

HARVEY AUSTIN FULLER, Author. Poet and Lecturer, graduated with his 
class from this College on the eighteenth of June, eighteen hundred and 
sixty-eight, receiving the degree of Bachelor of Science. 



A Shadozvless Sky. 




Chapter IV. 

A SHADOWLESS SKY. 

Hillsdale College is a school for the seeing- and is 
not, therefore, in Shadow-Land. It is "the land of the 
free and the home of the brave," where the inhabitants 
with God-given faculties unimpaired go about their 
daily avocations without let or hindrance of groping. 



That Hillsdale College received me with open 
arms, read my lessons to me, graduated me with the 
class of 1868, with the degree of Bachelor of Science 
and has been the kindest of friends to me in every way 
since my graduation, is a fact that shines out with a 

33 



Beauties of the Gloaming. 

light so beautiful and fair that it almost dispels the 
shadows from my own heart. 

Kind! Yes truly. Indeed, kindness fails to express 
it. Even that lawyer from Hillsdale who killed the 
doctor on the street of Coldwater, Kansas, was one of 
the kindest of men to me. 

I do not, however, blame him so much for killing 
the doctor. To him it was a pleasant necessity. There 
w^ere so many doctors around there in proportion to 
the number of inhabitants that he saw with the keen 
insight of a lawyer that their number must be dimin- 
ished or starvation would seize the whole of them ; so 
he concluded to diminish their number. After killing 
the one, he became discouraged on account of their 
numbers and took himself to the woods or rather to 
the gulches that lead down into Oklahoma or the In- 
dian Territory and the last I heard of him was that he 
Avas nowhere to be found. 

If it were not for my explanation, you would think 
that good lawyer deserved punishment. So you see 
that appearances are often deceiving, or rather to be 
wholly serious, appearances are always inadequate to 
express the best there is in human nature. 

The very doorways of life are hung round with 
fiowery emblems of truth and beauty that vie in their 
loveliness with those that graced the garden bowers of 
the first parents of our race, and these also bloom along 
the human pathway, unseen because of the stupidity 

34 



A Shadotvless Sky. 

of mankind, or because of a stronger view of the situ- 
ation which overshadows them. 

For instance, it is not a very uncommon phenom- 
enon that a person should stand gazing at a passing 
vehicle and never realize its presence. This shows not 
only that many things escape attention ; but it shows 
also that the real vision is not in the external or 
physical eye, nor even in the nerve which connects that 
beautiful organ with the brain, but in the mind itself, 
or the spirit of understanding, which is "the power 
behind the throne" and the most wonderful of all the 
hidden beauties as well. 

And so it transpires that the blind see, notwith- 
standing the trite old jest, "I see," said the blind man, 
^'I see clearly," with which thoughtless people amuse 
themselves ; and the blind old woodsawyer when com- 
plaining of his dull saw, had a right to say, "Of all the 
saws I ever saw saw, I never saw a saw saw as this 
saw saws." 

In regard to this point of obstructiveness of vision, 
and the want of discernment of the object clearly in 
view, the great Charles Dickens incidentally writes 
(his character being a blind man addressing a widow), 
"There is the connubial blindness, ma'am, which per- 
haps you may have observed in the course of your own 
experience, and which is a kind of willful and self- 
bandaging blindness. There is the blindness of party, 
ma'am, and of public men, which is the blindness of a 
mad bull in the midst of a regiment of soldiers clothed 

35 



Beauties of the Gloaming. 

in red. There is the blind confidence of youth, which 
is the blindness of kittens, whose eyes have not yet 
been opened on the world. And there is that physical 
blindness, ma'am, of which I am, contrary to my desire, 
a most illustrious example. Added to these, ma'am,, 
is that blindness of the intellect of which we have a. 
specimen in your interesting son." 

After all, there may be wrapped up in this variety 
of vision a hidden beauty of social convenience, which 
to some of us would be a blessing undisguised. With 
all this, to the best perception, the view itself is as 
changeful as the individual moods. 

When the King of Day rides forth in his goldea 
chariot of the skies, his glowing presence gives life and 
tone to every subject of his vast domain, save now and 
then some gnarly oak or croaking man, whose heart 
is never touched, "though wanton summer tempt it 
ne'er so much." Yet while Grim Darkness flees before 
the all-pervading light, the joyous sunshine drives inta 
exile the fair Queen of Night and her virgin train ; and 
it is only when His Ad^ajesty, the Sun, in the gloaming 
sinks behind the western hills, that the stars of evening 
creep from their hiding-places to assume their role in 
the brilliant coronet that decks the brow of heaven.. 
"Orion wears his shining belt by day also, but night 
alone reveals it." 

Thus we see that the rarest of nature's hidden 
beauties are brought to view only through the gloam- 
ing and the shadow of the earth. May not it suggest 

Z6 



A Shacfozuless Sky 

to us that the shadows of human life contain in their 
sombre folds the revelation of a purer, brighter and 
loftier sphere of existence than the sunshine of pros- 
perity alone can produce? And the mind being of all 
the hidden beauties the richest and best, why not 
bestow more care on its culture, and pay less atten- 
tion to the sorrows and ills of physical life? 

As the ancient philosopher told the celebrated 
blind teacher of Alexandria, as a reproof, when he be- 
moaned his loss of sight: "Let it not trouble thee 
that thou art in want of eyes, with which even flies 
and gnats can see, but rejoice that thou hast the eyes 
with which angels see ; by which, too, God is beheld 
and His light received." 

The things we behold through the natural eye 
shall melt away, but the hidden beauties of spiritual 
discernment are fadeless and eternal, for "beauty is in 
the seeing," as Emerson says. 

Alas that selfishness and pride should blind man- 
kind to its sacred relationships, and that so many gems 
of truth and beauty lie undiscovered, in the mad haste 
for that worldly prosperity which glitters on the sur- 
face of things. 

If true to ourselves we have wars every day; the 
man who struggles not hourly against the principalities 
and powers of prejudice and passion and other such 
foes within "is like the beast that licks the hand just 
raised to shed its blood." In our struggles we are 

2>7 



Beauties of the Gloaming. 

subject to defeat, aye, it is a thing of certainty and we 
must be ready for its repetition. 

Of some it may be said that they were never de- 
feated but once, for they never made a second onset. 
Unsuccessful at first, their hearts failed them and they 
retreated forever. The cry of every great soul when 
defeated is "Once more unto the breach." Successive 
failures only exasperate it and fit it for another trial. 

Keeping this principle of daily overcoming the 
practice of our life, we shall be prepared to behold 
with joy inexpressible the transcendant beauties of 
that final gloaming tinged and glorified with the 
golden light of another world. 




38 



''he Industrious Oak. 




THE INDUSTRIOUS OAK. 

I'm the mighty oak of the mountain side, 

I wrestle with storms ; 'tis my glory and pride 

That never in life have I lowered my arm 

To screen me from danger, nor save me from harm. 

My soft brother oak who lives down in the vale 
Has the richest of muck and has never a gale 
To stir up his temper; so even life ran 
That he died at the top like a bald-headed man. 

Great souls, let me stand for my beauty and strength 
And when I shall die (for all things die at length), 
I shall lay me down kindly, well pleased with the 

thought 
That while I was living I lived wisely and wrought. 

39 



Beauties of the Gloaming. 




May he be a Boy when Sixty Years Old 



40 



Si-X'ty Years Old and a Boy. 



SIXTY YEARS OLD AND A BOY. 

(Written for the author on his birthday by Hon. Silas Bettes 
IMcManus, Marsh Brook Farm, Lima. Indiana.) 

Sixty years old, did you say, Old Friend; 
An even and full three score ! 
As-my vagrant thoughts to the past I send 
To the old days all galore, 
I remember I thought that a wintry age 
Could only belong to seer and sage. 
I thought that the time, in my younger time, 
For a chair in the chimney place, 
With hair that was brushed with the whitest rime. 
And furrows all over the face ; 
And a cane and a cough and a wary crick 
And days and nights which were mostly sick; 
With temper awry and all out of whack, 
And pains in the stomach and heart, 
And voice that is mostly made up of crack, 
And creaking the other part; 
With a dull old book which was never read 
And spectacles lost on top of the head ; 
With the counting over with ghastly pride 
The years they had worried through; 

41 



Beauties of the Gloaming. 

And the dropping of hands by the weary side 

That had naught in the world to do ; 

The waiting for Death with his dreg-lined cup. 

Yet awfully afraid that he might turn up. 

But gracious me!. Now I think of three-score 

The swinging wide of a midway door, . 

Just only the summer of human life — 

For one to enter on work or strife ; 

The lane that leads to the harvest field 

That is ripe and waiting with the golden yield. ^ 

Sixty years old ! Why bless my heart ! 

You are a boy all the same, I say, 

And as blythe as a lad with a new red cart 

Though you are one hundred years old today. 

You have played a trick on these years, have you,.. 

And cheated them out of half of their due. 

You have drunk of the well of eternal youth. 

(This is only part of a jest 

And I half believe it is all a truth, 

And I like it this way the best.) 

It's no sign that a fellow should lose his grit, 
Because the years merely round up a bit. 
Keep on being young. Old Friend of mine ; 
Be sixty as long as you live. 
Don't take any sass from Old Man Time, 
Which he is a trifle too free to give. 
When he asks for your age, don't stammer and pause- 

42 



Sivty Years Old and a Boy. 

But say you are a boy and always was, 
And keep on singing your merry tunes 
That your pen loves so well to write. 
We love the words and the rhythmic rhymes 
That your heart and your pen indite. 
Keep a stiff upper lip and steady hand 
And paper and quill and plenty of sand. 




43 



Beauties of the Gloaming. 




44 



You and I. 



(r 



'-^ 




^ 



J 



YOU AND I. 

To Harvey A. Fuller, My Treasured Schoolmate : 
(By Fannie J. Crosby, writer of devotional songs^ 
and other literature, Bridgeport, Conn.) 

We v^ere sitting in the twilight 

Of a day that lingers yet ; 
Autumn leaves around us falling 

Left a shadow of regret ; 
For a picture rose before us, 

While the breeze came stealing by. 
Of the years when we were schoolmates,. 

Happy schoolmates, you and I. 



45 



Beauties of the Gloaming. 

Oh, the music, love and friendship, 

In that rural home of ours, 
Where we climbed the hill of science. 

And the path was strewn with flowers ! 
And the Muse from old Parnassus 

On her pinions bade us fly ; 
And at eve we sang together 

Songs of gladness, you and I. 

Life has brought us many changes — 

We have passed through waters deep ; 
But the voice of our Creator 

Lulled the stormy waves to sleep. 
On the clouds we read His promise, 

In the bow that spanned the sky; 
In that promise we are trusting, 

Firmly trusting, you and I. 

Brother Harvey, treasured schoolmate. 

Just a word before I close : 
May your precious little volume 

Sunshine bring where'er it goes ; 
And at last when all is over, 

When to earth we say goodbye, 
"In the Christian's home in glory" 

May we gather, you and I. 




46 



The Gloainiiii 




THE GLOAMING. 

'So live, that when thy summons comes to join 
The innumerable caravan, which moves 
To that mysterious realm, where each shall take 
His chamber in the silent halls of death. 
Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night, 
Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed 
By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave. 
Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch 
About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams." 

— William CullEn Bryant. 



There are bright sunny spots in the desert of life, 

Far away from confusion and care, 
And the pilgrim and stranger, dejected and worn, 

May at times find a resting-place there. 

^Tis a beautiful sight for the languishing eye, 

As it turns from its sorrowing gaze. 
On the darkness and gloom of life's dull, arid waste, 

To the joys which this prospect displays. 

47 



Beauties of the Gloaming. 

'Tis a relic of Eden, this vision from God, 
Being left for our guidance and cheer; 

As the earnest or foretaste of future reward, 
To be given when Christ shall appear. ^ 

But the transports of joy which illumine the soul. 
As they come through these visions of time, 

Are beyond the weak language of man to express; 
To declare them would need the Divine. 

If, when blinded by passion, and cumbered with care,. 

As vv^e are in our physical state. 
We receive such impressions of glory as these 

What delight must translation await. 

Then redouble thy speed, lagged Time, for thy flight: 

Will but hasten the coming of bliss ; 
And the transcendent joys of eternity's sphere, 

Shall compensate for trials in this. 




48 



Beyond the Gloaming. 




BEYOND THE GLOAMING. 

"Wherever the true wife comes, home is always around her. 
The stars may be over her head, the glow worm at her feet, but 
home is where she is, shedding its quiet light to those who else 
are homeless." — Ruskin. 

Dedicated to the loved and lost Etta, who, during her ten 
years of wedded life with the Author, was a constant benediction 
to him. 



Two great Bruins, Beai' and Forbear, 
Will pay their keeping anywhere. 
Before the family increase, 
Get these two bears to keep the peace. 

49 



Beauties of the Gloaming. 

Despite the joys home Hfe may bring 
And all the poets say or sing, 
Home must be guarded with good sense, 
And lots of cash to pay expense. 

Let poverty, with meagre pate, 

Just browse in front of home's sweet gate, 

Or even let it come in sight — 

Love quickly plumes her wings for flight. 

Xot always so ! One wife was true 
As finest gold earth ever knew\ 
She dreamed of heaven, yet w^ould not share 
Its bliss, were I not going there. 

This, Etta said, and went away. 
I've mourned her absence many a day; 
And heaven will be a boon to me 
When I the "loved and lost" shall see. 




50 



Gratitude. 



^ 



^ 




& 



GRATITUDE. 

Dedicated to President Joseph W. Mauck, of Hillsdale 
College, in token of his untiring efforts in preserving the life of 
the author, the night and day following his accident in one of the 
college buildings, and his unflagging interest in him since the 
lime of the calamity. 



The gift of Gratitude possessed 
And hidden deep within the breast 
Is one that holds its secret well ; 
Eternity alone can tell, 
Nay, not eternity shall see, 
Through its unfolding mystery. 
The ecstacy we mortals feel 
At noble deeds wrought for our weal. 



51 



Beauties of the Glooming. 

Words are but vehicles of thought ; 
Though painted, varnished, richly wrought^ 
They are but ponderous wains that fill 
The purpose of the carriage ill ; 
Or if they rush at break-neck speed, 
Their very haste proclaims their need. 

E'en when one really feels he knows 
The measure of the debt he owes. 
He dare not risk the cheering word 
For fear the meed might seem absurd ; 
And so, with gratitude suppressed, 
In sorrow lets the message rest. 

'Thus runs my dream." As in the sphere 
Of broadening providences, here. 
Men of kind heart and friendly mein 
In sympathy my needs have seen. 
I bow my thanks for favors given 
And rest my case with God and Heaven. 




52 



My Scribe for Today. 



fr 




1 


n'^l^l 









MY SCRIBE FOR TODAY. 



Dedicated to Professor S. B. Harvey, Dean of Hillsdale 
College, Mich. As the poem relates to him, Mrs. L. W. Skinner 
of the Commercial Department of the College kindly takes it 
down for me. 



Plurrah for my scribe ! for today 'tis the Dean 
Of the College of Hillsdale. You never have seen 
A more welcome guest, royal fellows would say, 
Than this Dean of old Hillsdale, my scribe for today. 

53 



Beauties of the Gloaming. 

He teaches four languages, sings German songs ; 
He lectures, he preaches, he knows what belongs 
1 o all social distinctions ; is brilliant, has sense. 
And the boys of the ball grounds all say he's immense. 

He's a critic by nature, his wife knows that well. 
As they said of one fellow, "He knows how to spell.'" 
And as to his scribing, he's great with the pen. 
Oh! a wonder of wonders is this man among^ men! 




54 



The Brotherhood of Man. 




THE BROTHERHOOD OF MAN. 

To Prof. Myron T. Skinner, Principal of the Commercial 
Department of Hillsdale College, as one of the Brotherhood. 



In Commerce as in finest art, 

I find my friend an all-round man. 
Beside his skill he brings the heart 

To do and help where'er he can. 

Well balanced men are not so few 

As critics crustily assert. 
Their rarity is doubtless due 

To narrow spheres these seers begirt. 

:.''' 55 



Beauties of the Gloaming. 

At all events, Hurrah for him 

Of whom I speak ! This man of parts 
He saw his friend whose eyes are dim, 

He saw him from his heart of hearts. 

"Blest be the tie," the Poet sang, 

"That binds the Brotherhood of man." 
Let him who hates mankind "go hang," 
Or live the hermit, if he can. 



56 



Nature's Gentleman. 





NATURE'S GENTLEMAN. 

Mr. Fuller has composed music and written many songs and 
-poems of real merit. The present production is rich in Mr. 
Tuller's cheerful and brave spirit, which is so well expressed. 

Geo. F. Mosher, Editor "Morning Star," Boston, 

To whom this poem is dedicated by the author. 

Kind, earnest, honest and sincere ; 
With just himself alone severe. 
Search where you may you scarce will find 
»Such modesty and worth combined. 



57 



Beauties of the Gloaming. 

A native prince of gentlemen — 
Born to this end, God now and then 
Since Christ was taken from the earth 
Sends forth some men of royal birth ; 

Christ-like with noble zeal inspired, 
In panoply of truth attired. 
To show mankind what man can be. 
By grace of God and action free. 

Die when he may, the best will own, 
With tears, they wish they'd better known 
This man of men. "God spare him long" — 
The burden of our heart and song. 




58 



The Beauty of Friendship. 



0- 



U 




Tl 



£J- 



THE BEAUTY OF FRIENDSHIP. 

Tihe same cheerfulness and courage vinder very untoward 
circumstances have led you to write words of hope and cheer- 
fulness in musical rythm that have encouraged multitudes to 
right living. Mrs. Moore joins with me in sending best wishes. 
Your friend, 

Josi;pH B. MooRE, 

Lansing, Mich., 

Chief Justice of the Michigan State Supreme Court, to whom 
this poem is dedicated. 



There is a power that some possess 
To banish demons of distress ; 
To light blind eyes, to warm the heart, 
And bid life's common ills depart. 



59 



Beauties of the Gloaming. 

A wondrous gift from nature given, 
Born of earth, yet owned of heaven. 
To speak the words and do the deeds 
Through which alone the charm succeeds. 

To climb above environments 
That oft distrust one's best intents. 
And still persist in spreading cheer. 
Would seem true friendship's mission here. 

In poor return for many a rift 

In shadowy skies, I dedicate 

These lines, dear Judge ; 'tis not the gift, 

But motive you will estimate. 




60 



The College Clock. 




THE COLLEGE CLOCK. 



The College Clock is standing h^'gh. 
It rears its head against the sky, 
And in its high exalted sphere 
It strikes the hours as they appear. 

It seems to say with modest grace : 
"Oh, sons of earth, behold my face ! 
Behold my face and hear my voice. 
That you can see and hear, rejoice.'' 

61 



Beauties of the Gloaming. 

"I count the moments as they run, 
I count them carefully, each one. 
They are your life and say to you — 
In tragic tones : 'Adieu ! Adieu !' 

^T am not time : I merely tell 
What you should note and note full well, 
Of passing time, a grand review 
That brings God's judgment seat to you." 

Momentous thought, with me abide ! 
And yet I see another side : 
How much this clock in gentle mood 
Resembles merry maidenhood. 

A close observer understands 
Just how a maiden folds her hands 
Athwart her face when men are near, 
And half-way doubting, not in fear. 

Her fingers spread, lap, overrun. 
As if she much enjoyed the fun 
Of seeing men's attentive gaze 
Directed to her chary ways. 

Two sided, too, a woman seems 
Sometimes in carrying out her schemes ; 
Two sided is this clock, and more, 
Instead of two sides it has four. 

Clocks, women, and the best of men 

Get out of gear and run again. 

Today our clock received a boon — 

'Twas paint ; the maid may find some soon. 



62 



Hope. 




HOPE. 

My dearest Hope, with storms I cope, 
Some foes without, some foes within, 

Yet when I feel the inward weal 
Of thy rich glow I surely win. 

Dark is the pathway Earth hath made. 
The starry heavens give me no ray, 

Yet upward, onward, grade by grade, 
Thy love, sweet Hope, lights up the way. 

Light of my eyes, joy of my heart. 
Born to this purpose by God's will, 

I trust that we may never part, 

Though wrecking storms creation thrill. 

63 



Beauties of the Glooming. 




Rev. Russell H. Bready, 

Pastor of the First M. E. Church of Lowell, Michigan,, 
commends Mr. Harvey A. Fuller's lectures and says : 

"Dear Brother Fuller : — 

You have been with me now in each of my three 
pastorates. I shall count your future visits as much a 
part of the ecclesiastical schedule as those of my Pre- 
siding Elder. Your address last evening on 'Blossoms 
of Good Sense' greatly pleased the people. The LowelL 
friends will heartily welcome you again." 



64 



Words of Apprcciaiion. 

Robert J. Burdette, in a communication to the 
author, speaks in regard to one of his books, as fol- 
lows : 

My Dear Friend Fuller : — 

So much of pleasure, so much of inspiration, so 
much of "uplift," i have found in the pages of "Where 
Dark Shadows Play." The shadows only emphasize 
the sunshine. There are no morbid tints in the color- 
U'g and they have given tone and virility to your 
work and your life. 

Sincerely your friend, 

Robert J. Burdettk. 

Bryn Mawr, Pa. 



.^ 



From Joseph VV. Mauck, A. M., LL.D., President 
of Hillsdale College : 

By a long and intimalc acquaintance with Mr. 
Harvey Fuller, an honored graduate of Hillsdale Col- 
lege, I have by personal touch had a more intelligent 
and minute appreciation of his worth, ideals and aspir- 
ations than one can gain from his public activities as 
author, composer, preacher and lecturer, in all of which 
he has deserved and won wide recognition. By all the 
rules of a Christian land he might justly rely upon 
society for support without giving a substantial return, 
but he has steadfastly insisted upon being a man 
among men, rendering a full quid pro quo. Those 
who know him best can abundantly testify that this 
spirit has not been baffled by financial reverses, re- 
peated illness, or intense and prolonged physical suf- 
fering from distressing accidents. That one at his age 
takes up the task of preparing another book is most 
remarkable. To be associated with such a nature, 
personally or in the role of auditor or reader, is to 
gain a higher conception of mankind, and it afifords 
me pleasure to acknowledge my indebtedness to Mr. 
Fuller for such a conception. 

JoscPH W. Mauck. 

65 



Beauties of fJie Gloamiiig. 

The Dean of the Theological Department of 
Hillsdale College, Prof. Delavan B. Reed, D. D., 
also says of Mr. Fuller's work : 

Dear Brother Fuller: — 

My highest wish for you is that the sweet Chris- 
tian spirit and love of truth which have characterized 
you in the past, may ever remain with you to bless 
you in the world that now is, and make for you a rich 
inheritance in the great eternity. 

Delvin B. Reed. 



Air. Fuller speaks on the followang subjects: 

Undercurrents of Every Day Liic. 

Trials by the Way. 

Elements of True Manhood. 

Blossoms of Good Sense. 

Criminality of Intoxication. 

The Poetry of Life. 

The Way to the Beautiful. 

Elijah the Tishbitc. 
Lecture committees desiring Mr. Fuller's services 
will please address either himself at Hillsdale, Mich., 
or the Educational Register Co., Chicago, Boston, or 
Cleveland. 




66 



!^ov le i9oa 



